jinsoul is no stranger to the sensation of falling. she had fallen from grace long ago in a blaze of darkness, with flames so high that they could have touched the stars and scorched the heavens, in their glorious heat and flickering brightness.
she's no stranger to pain either. her entire being is moulded by heaven's wrath and hell's delight; centuries of that bitterness manifesting through her rule over a domain that was tainted with eternal suffering and death.
it takes a certain kind of monster to be content with the shadows. however contentment does not equate to true happiness, not when jinsoul’s nightmares run rampant with the occasional reprieve. she glances up at the ceiling and wonders about the golden warmth of sunlight, it has been too long since she had journeyed to the mortal realm.
but i would wait an eternity for you in these shadows.
jinsoul leans back against her obsidian throne and studies the delicate band of silver that adorns her finger, her sigh mirroring the frigid winds that swirl around her palace. she thinks of arched ceilings, flickering candles and white silk. of dark hair and darker eyes and crimson lips that tasted of ashes. she thinks of the beauty of a scorching flame, bright reds and oranges and yellows when she all knows is darkness. those thoughts are akin to halos of thorns and stygian iron as they twist into jinsoul's heart. and she lets them.
sooyoungie my love…
the first time they had met was with the heavy summer air clinging to their skin. she had been a mere godling then; yearning for the thrum of adrenaline and had found it in the presence of a mortal. the princess of the northen kingdom to be exact. sooyoung had been shrouded in the last remnants of a dying incandescence; jinsoul silently studying the sharp curve of sooyoung’s jaw as her fingers had twitched with the urge to caress the porcelain skin.
then sooyoung had turned to jinsoul, eyes shimmering with the entire essence of the cosmos. she remembers trembling at the sight of sooyoung, and who wouldn’t, when her lips were dipped in pomegranates and her smile had glinted so brightly in the feeble light. it’s in her presence that jinsoul forgets she’s a god - abandons her icy composure and forgets how to be gentle because sooyoung is all that she craves.
and jinsoul had found choking on the shards of her silver crown. their jagged edges shredded at her insides whilst ichor had oozed over the scattered fragments. her lungs begging for air whilst she stumbled through the gates of the underworld with the taller brunette lying limply in her arms. even the iciest depths of the underworld raged with an inferno of silvery-black that night when jinsoul had been forced to watch helplessly whilst the fates sentenced sooyoung to the realm of the living. she didn’t know why but an uncomfortable heat prickled in her eyes and she collapsed onto her knees.
jinsoul had cursed divinity - ripped it from her tongue then watched as droplets of golden fell to the floor. they sizzled upon contact with the marbled floor and served as an indication that the blood of the gods could just as easily fester beneath skin. that despite jinsoul’s immortality, her body is still human. a human body that had been made to be torn, cut and bleed because the cosmos could not be contained in such things.
and for centuries there was nothing but emptiness. jinsoul had become a reflection of her kingdom - smile sharper than a knife and twisted; shadowy flames that had once consumed the entirety of her palace were nothing but mere wisps of their former selves, as tendrils of ice crept over every surface and biting whirlwinds slashed at her subjects.
my dear… how you have grown. chiron had hissed amidst the disembarkation of another crowd of souls.
i would disagree chiron. i am still that foolish weakling who continues to believe in fragile human emotions, as i wait for someone who is akin to the smoke that slips through our fingers.
jinsoul vows to only love her in the darkness where it is safe. never again will she allow those feelings to see the light of the heavens, where they would crumble to ashes.
yet it’s not that simple. it’s never been that simple when it comes to sooyoung, no yves, because that’s what she’s now known as.
the two psyches dance ever so delicately on the edges of a double-bladed dagger. sooyoung burns with an unbridled intensity, all glorious heat and blinding brightness until that blaze of light overwhelms her, leaving nothing but a glacial twilight. yves is a constellation of wounds and speckled with scorch marks; her mouth glistening with the fragments of fallen stars whilst wisps of flames that have been long extinguished flash within her eyes.
i’ve been dreaming these days, thinking about a smile that drips with the crimson and carmine of pomegranates. jinsoul, come back to me…
and of course jinsoul abandons reason, dismisses the implications of her actions, because no matter the circumstances jinsoul has never been able to refuse her.
she holds yves gently, fingers gliding a breath away from porcelain skin. she’s hesitant and so careful - a stark contrast to the hunger and rashness that had tinged their previous encounter.
i’m cruel, she says in between kisses, cruel enough to be doing this when i know how it will end.
yves’s eyes glow like the sunlight that runs through her veins, ablaze with the flames that had once consumed her; she steals one more kiss from jinsoul in the midst of this pitiless darkness.
you forget that i’ve never seen you as hades, ruler of the underworld. you may have changed since the last time we met but you’ve always been anything but cruel. you’ll always be the jinsoul i met all those millennia’s ago, my jinsoul before you were ever belonged to olympus.
and jinsoul suffocates on this starry love. it’s all teeth and vicious agony when yves flashes a grin stained with crimson, and she watches that dazzling brilliance fade to dull sheen. a supernova of endless destruction settles in her stomach, rips and burns and she can only laugh with so much bitterness because she was foolish enough to believe that it would be different.
star-crossed lovers always end up the same after all. they were never meant for true love.
years, lifetimes flash by, without any sign of that smile coated in starlight. the last threads of hope which loosely bind the fragments of jinsoul’s heart together gradually fray, worn so thin that they could snap at any moment.
the human is nowhere to be found ……
…..hades’ love… threads of fate are damned to unravel….
whispers swirl from the vines of olympus, carried by the frosty exhale of the north winds, spilled from the jaws of souls awaiting judgement until they finally smoulder in the weak twist of jinsoul’s flames.
a long time ago, jinsoul’s fury would have consumed her, hatred and anger rooted so deeply within her chest that her vision would have clouded over with its morbid colours. a long time ago, the impulsive godling would have allowed this amalgamation of emotions to ignite within her chest, spilling from her lips in a shadowy conflagration. that godling would have thrown her head back and laughed, that scorching blaze mirrored within her eyes whilst she watched the ghostly spiral of obsidian lick at her stygian confinements.
however that was before the flames within her had been cruelly snuffed, before crystals of frost had encrusted her world, before fate’s grasp had ripped a still-beating scarlet mess out of her chest long ago. now all that’s left within jinsoul is a bitter prickle of irritation, one that mingles with the desperation that claws at her insides; she’s just so tired of everything.
“atropos, clotho, lachesis,” jinsoul inclines her head sharply, “where is she?”
the bony frames of the fates tremble as they sigh resignedly, “we are not privy towards the information which you seek child.
“how! how do you not know when you are the very reason for this curse! your meddling is the reason why i’ve watched her die in my arms. so do not tell me that you have no clue where she is.”
rage flashes within jinsoul just as the unexpected heat of inky flames envelops her. but as quickly as they spark, the flames are extinguished with that same speed.
“i give up. not only will i never see her again…i also bear the responsibility for her death.”
out of the corner of her eye, jinsoul notices the slight quiver of shoulders, just as a silvery frost begins to creep against the palace’s surfaces.
“thank you for your time, i think we’re done here.”
jinsoul doesn’t wait for the fates to respond; a single thought guides her movements for there is only one place she wishes to be. she yearns for murky waters; glacial yet simultaneously searing when that maelstrom finally swallows her.
the clouded emerald waters of river styx were infamous for its powers - granted invincibility yet possessed the ability to strip one of their immortality. in other words, not even jinsoul was immune to the tendrils of darkness; the gaunt shadowy fingers of restless souls circle around her wrist and drag her limp figure further from the last glimmers of light.
maybe i’ll finally see you again. nebulous wisps of people and places converge with one another; the immortal’s eyes fluttering shut. silhouettes dance across her hazy vision just as the fading thuds of her heartbeat echo within her ears. perhaps it’s only at the ends of the world where jinsoul is able to love her.
then a halo of blinding white envelops her. jinsoul hunches over, gasping for air as a spasm of coughs wracks her debilitated frame. there’s an acrid taste that lingers on her tongue and coats her throat; a blur of darkness being the sole memory that flits through her mind. she notices a network of bluish veins that are stark against the pallor of her hands; shivering from the chill of damp clothes and whispers that tickle her skin.
welcome home hades. it has been a long time.
the whispers are akin to a breeze - rustling the strands of her hair and leaving a trail of goosebumps as they brush against exposed skin. jinsoul exhales wearily and braces herself, a warmth bubbling in her chest as their humming guides her closer towards their intended destination.
she thinks about the story that the fates had woven for her - how the queen of death had fallen in love with a mortal, how they had pretended to be untouchable at the edges of the earth, how never-ending darkness had become her paradise. she thinks about the gradual ruination of golden girl turned tragedy; ashes and bitterness and bad omens staining their lips. jinsoul has no idea who the tears belong to anymore, only knows the shatter of glass shards when they fall to the ground.
yet their story is also hazy. it ripples and is effused with the soft dusky glow of morning light; yves’s hands were soft whilst they stripped jinsoul of rigid shadowy armour and copper eyes had perhaps been even tenderer than her smile, when she gazed up at the immortal. jinsoul closes her eyes, remembers the first time she had seen the constellations mapped out on porcelain skin, and nothing had ever been crueler than the memory of a smile which dripped with the ethers of the universe.
i would have razed everything to the ground to build you an empire...but you were a queen long before i had met you , the thought prickles within her mind.
her gaze darts from pastel clouds spun like cotton candy to imposing marbled figures that surround her. she muses one final time on how bravery within this story is delineated in halcyon Sunday mornings between the sheets, where silence is the only conversation that is needed, along with the prayers they utter to the heavens to be kind.
i have seen hell. it is not fiery lakes or wraith-like shadows… no it is a life without you. i want to say that our story was worth the everlasting darkness, worth the cruel ache that haunts my every waking moment.
and that ache returns in full force upon entering the pavilion. its ravenous when it blooms within her chest, clawing at her insides and leaving her with nothing but the taste of saccharine poison within her mouth. for a familiar figure stands under arched ceilings and dappled rays of golden, surrounded by the same thirteen thrones that had condemned jinsoul to a life of emptiness and torment.
“sooyoung,” she screams in desperation, “yves!”
but there’s nothing. no admonishment, no snide taunt, no reaction in the slightest. it’s as if jinsoul is merely a spectre, as if the fates are mocking her by obstructing her interference. it’s a reminder of the first time jinsoul had been forced to watch yves’s trial; power thrumming through her veins and yet powerless to do anything. trepidation surges within her ribcage; jinsoul understands what icarus must have felt like during his plummet from helios’ golden radiance and into the icy embrace of poseidon’s arms.
and then yves is illuminated by pastel sparks - a glare so bright that jinsoul is forced to avert her gaze for the briefest moment.
but it’s enough. that momentary lapse in attention is all that is required.
persephone…
the following words are drowned out by jinsoul’s sigh. her exhale bounces off speckled marbled pillars, majestic arches, until it echoes within the confinements of the pavilion.
yves’s smile is all teeth, studded with specks of fallen stars and dazzling silver moonlight; a single sapling of neglected affection blooming through crevices under that sliver of luminosity.
how fitting, jinsoul thinks, the goddess of nature’s never-ending rebirth and death.
she feels those embers of their impossible love spark to life. the threadbare warmth of flames that have been long forgotten, dancing within the hollows of bones and flesh.
i want you to know that it was so simple to let my heart burn, it was the most natural thing to let my skin burn to ashes, because you said you loved me and that was more than enough for me.
“hades…” she sees that brief flash of sunlight within yves’s eyes as she turns, searching for her other half, almost as if she had heard the frantic cry of jinsoul’s heartbeat.
jinsoul shakily inhales, watches blazes of light gleam and twist around that slender form, when yves strides towards her direction.
“soulie my love,” fingers hover before delicately brushing against the curve of her jaw, afraid that the other might be nothing more than the faintest curl of smoke, until finally their hands intertwine in a grasp that aches with the weight of words that go unsaid. yves’s smile is soft, has always dripped with honey but is now painfully tender, the golden radiance within her gaze is eclipsed by shadows. it’s the only thing jinsoul recognises, as the features she has spent so many eons dreaming about, shift and ripple.
in another world , her heart whispers, we’re blazingly happy; our smiles see sunrises, stars. our love’s would have been soft and easy, and there would be no such thing as tears or heartbreak.
in this one, yves whispers back, the night doesn’t hide our cracks very well and sunlight is a merciless, hungry creature. we’re searching and pleading and begging; finding a sanctuary for our flawed love. this world is ugly and crooked and dark, because in this world we’re gods. and as gods we do not love we only destroy.
so she looks one final time and lets go. she lightly pushes the other woman and observes when yves marches towards glittering constellations, towards the welcoming arms of everything she’s ever dreamed of; however in the end she closes her eyes. jinsoul is not brave enough to recognise whether the immortal has looked back for even the slightest second.
and then jinsoul is falling again. she plummets to the ground and finally knows pain. for when she opens her eyes, she is bathed in the insincere warmth of heaven’s radiance, and surrounded by the cloying scent of flowers.
her chest hurts, except it’s a dull ache as if something had been ripped out long ago; her bones feel as if they had been melded together with blazing-hot rivets. every breath stings, acid flowing into her lungs, like shards of shimmering glass forcing their way down her throat.
coughs and collapses onto her knees, the shards of rock pressing into her flesh as she leaves deep indents in the tangled greenery; uncurls her trembling bloodied hands. with a sound she didn’t know she could make, jinsoul stares at the single withered petal which lies within her palm. it’s tinged with the dying remnants of sunlight.
hades, she thinks. my name was hades.